


Florals and Fractals

by QuokkaFoxtrot



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: AU, Affectionate Insults, Bad First Impressions, Bickering, Florist Newt, Insults, M/M, One Shot, Smoking, Tattoo Artist Hermann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2379413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuokkaFoxtrot/pseuds/QuokkaFoxtrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt is a florist. Hermann is a tattoo artist. They don't get along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Florals and Fractals

**Author's Note:**

> Let's all give a huge thanks to the combination of my roof being repaired and the transparent skylight in the bathroom for making me unable to shower and leave the house and thus forcing me to spend the past two days in the basement writing like a fiend and smelling rather terrible.
> 
> This all snowballed out of [this post](http://killer--ink.tumblr.com/post/98500585558/i-passed-a-flower-shop-next-to-a-tattoo-shop-and).
> 
> Again, unbetaed but run through spellcheck like a boss.
> 
> **ETA:** Parasitebeans did some flipping _gorgeous_ art and everyone should totally go look at it [here](http://parasitebeans.tumblr.com/post/99188774281/florals-and-fractals-a-piece-based-on-this).

It's just after eight and Newt's setting the generic spring bouquets on the stands outside the store when he sees him - tall and tweedy, resting his weight on a cane as he looks up at the storefront beside Otachi's Bud with a face expressionless and smooth.

"Drift Ink doesn't open until ten," he says helpfully and the man looks over, staring down his nose at Newt.

He pulls a hand out of his pocket and holds up a set of keys.

"I know," he says and unlocks the door, disappearing inside before Newt can say another word.

\---

Three days later, he's pulling back the awning to finish up closing and the tall tweedy man steps out of the tattoo parlour and lights a cigarette.

"Tendo didn't tell me they were getting someone new in," Newt says as he locks it closed and gives it a shake to make sure it's secure.

"They didn't," the man says, taking a draw and blowing the smoke out into the street, away from Newt. "I own the place."

"Oh, so, you're not here to work then," Newt says with a shrug. "Pity, always like seeing the new folios."

"I am an _artist_ ," the man says with a sniff. "I choose my clients, _not_ vice versa."

"Really?" Newt says with a snort. "You sound like such a dick, man. Let me guess, you're one of those EuroTrash dudes doing pure technique work? You're all about the aesthetic?"

"My work aims to connect the perfection of geometric constructs with the presupposed imperfection of the human form in a way that synergistically shows that humanity is structured mathematically and is thereby beautiful. I wouldn't expect a mere _florist_ to understand," the man sneers and moves to stand on the other side of the store.

Newt narrows his eyes and starts snapping his fingers. "Wait, wait, I know this... Gottlieb, right? Hermann Gottlieb? You've been working in Berlin. You're all tessellation and Escher, form over function. I mean, it looks good, n'all, but it's kind of soulless."

The man stares at him in a way that tells Newt he's right about who the man is, and he's also seriously pissed him off with his estimation of his work.

Gottlieb takes a long, hard draw of his cigarette and drops it to the ground, crushing the cherry out with the head of his cane and walks back inside without another word.

Newt smirks and returns to closing down the shop. Guys that hot and popular were almost always major dickbags; at least Gottlieb had the decency to advertise the fact.

\---

"How on earth can you win an award for putting flowers side-by-side?" The voice comes over his shoulder in a sneering tone. It's been a week since Newt shot down his aesthetic and Gottlieb's given him the silent treatment ever since.

"I think you'll find I've won _six_ awards for putting flowers side-by-side," Newt says without turning around.

"What do they mark based on? How long it takes for them to wilt and die?" Gottlieb sniffs and when Newt glances over his shoulder he can see him standing in the doorway with a sneer.

"There's beauty in ephemera, too," Newt says with only a tinge of annoyance. He's got the upper hand right now; he knows Gottlieb's only doing it because Newt took a jab at his work. If he can keep his cool, he'll still have the upper hand when Gottlieb storms out in about two minutes time. 

"Of course there is," Gottlieb says and there's an eyeroll in his tone. 

"The things I create don't last very long so people appreciate them more while they're there. There are very few instances where people have looked back and thought 'y'know, I wish I _hadn't_ bought those flowers.'" Newt carefully wraps the bouquet up in clear cellophane and sits it in a tub by the door, giving it a quick spritz and carefully moving a flower that had gotten slightly out of place.

"I'm absolutely positive that nobody has looked at one of your creations ten years after buying it and thought 'that was a worthwhile use of my time and money,'" Hermann says and looks around the store disdainfully. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go commit an act of _permanent_ beauty, that will be marvelled on for decades to come. Have fun with all your... delicate frippery, flowerchild."

Hermann turns and leaves without a backwards glance and Newt flips him off. He's preparing to yell something after him when a customer walks in and he has to quickly hide his hand and pretend he wasn't about to unleash a barrage of insults.

\---

"Yo, Gottlieb," Newt calls as he sees Hermann exiting the tattoo parlour three weeks later. "Drawn any cool intersecting straight lines lately?"

"Picked any particularly pretty daisies recently, Mr. Geiszler?" Gottlieb says almost conversationally as he walks past.

"Hold that thought," Newt says and ducks back inside for a second before returning and walking up close to Gottlieb. "It's _Dr_. Geiszler. And _all_ my daisies are pretty." He smirks as he tucks one of the aforementioned daisies behind Gottlieb's ear and heads back into the store whistling a jaunty tune.

\---

"Who gets a doctorate in _botany_?" Gottlieb says the next day, leaning against the doorframe and looking around the store with an air of mistrust.

"Botany. Biology. Zoology. Anthropology. If it's living, I've probably got a degree in it," Newt says as he rearranges the order of bridal bouquets in the fridge so they have more space.

"In that case, who gets that many qualifications and then becomes a _florist?_ " Newt can hear the bewilderment in Hermann's tone. It's the same bewilderment he hears from his mother every time they have a strained conversation across the Atlantic.

"This guy, clearly," Newt says in an emotionless tone and walks into the back room to take a few deep breaths. When he walks out five minutes later, Gottlieb's still leaning against the doorframe, looking over at him with a perturbed frown.

"Touchy subject?" Gottlieb asks quietly.

"Probably about as touchy as asking why _you_ became a tattoo artist, _Dr_. Gottlieb," Newt says crossing his arms over his chest.

"That... that is a fair point," Gottlieb says, looking off to the side and biting his lip. He looks up tentatively a moment later and straightens. "I don't think we've been formally introduced. Hermann. Hermann Gottlieb." Gottlieb holds out a hand and Newt looks at it almost skeptically before stepping forward and taking it in his own.

"Newton Geiszler. Call me Newt," he says and tilts his head to the side. "Don't think this is going to stop me ribbing you about shit."

"Nor I you," Hermann responds with a smile bordering on conspiratorial. He lets go of Newt's hand, fingers reluctantly slipping across Newt's palm as he steps away. "I must be off. I have an appointment at two."

"More tessellations?" Newt asks with a smirk as Hermann steps through the door and out into the sunlight.

"No, uh. I'm working on a series of fractals. Blooming from and contouring to the human shape," Hermann says avoiding Newt's eyes as he gets closer to Drift Ink's door.

"It's like you're growing as a person," Newt says with a smirk as Hermann shakes his head and disappears from view.

\---

"These are pretty sweet," Newt says as he leans on the counter in Drift Ink looking at the designs spread in front of him. "The whole biomechanical direction is really working out for you."

"Thanks, man. Means a lot," Tendo says straightening with pride as he looks over his drawings. "Always wanted to try this style but didn't think I'd be able to make it look natural. Gotta say, watching Gottlieb work and listening to him talk about things made a few things click. It's coming a lot easier now."

"He's that good, huh?" Newt says a little skeptically. "I've seen his work. Seems like the kind of stuff where it's all the artist. I mean, how do you even _ask_ for that kind of thing?"

"Nah, man. He spends hours working on this shit. He doesn't even put pencil to paper until he's spent at least two hours talking to the client," Tendo says as he starts clearing away his folio. "Why do you think he's so sought after? You think people would pay that much for something they didn't really _want_?"

"Never really thought about it, I guess," Newt shrugs and makes to leave. He's on lunch, but he probably shouldn't leave the store closed for too much longer.

The bell rings as the door opens behind him and then Hermann's stepping through and frowning at Newt.

"You've closed down your shop to start taking up space in mine? How are you still in business?" Hermann asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Weddings, man," Newt shrugs.

"What better way to celebrate the joining of two lives than with something fleeting and ephemeral." Hermann sniffs and there's bitterness in the way his lip curls, but then he's moving quickly through the room and calling for Newt to follow. "There's something I want to show you. I hardly think you'll go out of business if you're away five minutes longer. Though, who am I to judge the whims of the flower trade?"

Newt snorts and follows Hermann down the hall and up a set of stairs at the back. There's a hall running the length of the building with more private rooms and office spaces on either side. Hermann leads him to the end and unlocks a door leading to a room with a large window and a drafting table set up. 

"Here," Hermann says gesturing to the table. "Using the shoulder as a starting point the fractal blooms out, curving down the shoulder blade and around the side of the body to the breast in one direction, and spirals down around the arm to the elbow in the other. It at once highlights the curves of the canvas, and shows the rigidity and fluidity of expectation through the use of a multitude of straight, intersecting lines."

Newt whistles through his teeth as he leans over to look at the work. Stuck to the corner of the desk is a page of measurements and a series of pictures, presumably of the 'canvas'. The fractals themselves are beautiful and elegant and it's hard to believe that these graceful curves are born of straight lines.

"Why the change in style?" Newt asks, not looking up.

"I give people what they want. My style can only stretch so far as the client's imagination. People see what I have done, and then they want more of the same. This is why I've become... picky... about who I take on as a client," Hermann says and adjusts a page so Newt can see it more clearly. "This is for a Maths professor. This is her imagination. Her hope. Ultimately, her design."

"You get paid a lot for this?" Newt asks as he straightens up and looks at Hermann.

"I do," Hermann says pulling up a stool and leaning on it. "Are you inquiring for personal reasons?"

"What? Oh, no. I've got someone I like. Works well with my 'aesthetic'. I was just curious," Newt says and glances out the window. "Besides, I don't shit where I eat."

"Excuse me?" Hermann says, rearing back from Newt with an expression of offence.

"It's nothing. I just meant, uh." Newt rubs a hand over the back of his neck and looks over at Hermann with one eye squeezed shut. "Do you, um, want to maybe go get a drink sometime?"

"I thought you thought I was 'soulless'," Hermann says, staring at Newt shrewdly.

"I thought your _work_ was soulless," New corrects with a shrug. "Maybe I was wrong? This is kind of... gorgeous."

"Thank you," Hermann says relaxing slightly as he looks down at his hands in his lap.

"Right," Newt says and when Hermann doesn't answer his question, embarrassment starts pooling at the pit of his stomach. "Well, I'll be off then. Um. See you around."

"Wait, Newton," Hermann says and Newt stops at the door, looking at him expectantly. "I would. I would like to get a drink with you..."

"But...?"

"No buts," Hermann says, lips tugging up at the corner in a smile.

"Tonight?" Newt asks and Hermann cringes.

"The first session of that piece is tonight," Hermann says apologetically. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," Newt agrees. "I close at around six. That work for you?"

"I'll come by and we can leave from there," Hermann says and Newt grins and drums his hands on the doorframe.

"It's a date." Newt bounces on his toes. "I gotta get back. Can't leave the store closed for too long."

"Of course," Hermann says and stands to watch as New walks down the hall. "Wouldn't want you to miss the customer and find yourself destitute."

"Don't think I didn't hear that singular!" Newt yells as he disappears down the stairs and heads back to work.

\---

"How do you handle this smell all the time? It's so... cloying," Hermann says leaning against the doorframe and watching as Newt finishes up for the night.

"I don't really notice it anymore," Newt says as he locks down the register and zips closed the deposit bag. "It just sort of... is. Nearly done here, just give me a second." Newt grabs the bag and disappears into the back room. Most of the lights go off and then Newt's walking back into the main room and stopping in front of Hermann. "Got you something." Newt steps forward and slides a finger under Hermann's lapel, opening the buttonhole and working in a white gardenia. When he's satisfied that the flower's in a good position, he smooths the lapel down and looks up at Hermann with a lopsided smile. "You ready? I've got to drop this off, but it's on the way."

Hermann steps out onto the street without a word and when Newt's done turning the last light off, flipping the sign to closed, and locking the door, Hermann's looking down at the flower with an indecipherable expression on his face.

"You don't like it?" Newt says and reaches towards the flower. "You don't have to wear it. I just thought it'd be nice."

Hermann stills Newt's hand before he can remove the flower. "I just wasn't expecting it. It's... nice." He gives Newt a tight smile and pats the back of his hand. "Where are we going?"

"There's a place around the corner called Raiju. It's a little divey, but I like it," Newt says as they start walking down the street.

"A dive bar. How apropos," Hermann says with a snort as Newt drops the deposit bag in the chute outside the bank.

"Hey, we've spent the past two months insulting each other at every opportunity. Pretty sure the location isn't going to make any more of a bad impression," Newt says bumping his shoulder against Hermann's companionably.

"Touché."

\---

"No, okay, so, why would you move _here_? I mean, Berlin, man. _Berlin_ ," Newt says, nodding at the waitress as she collects their empty glasses.

"I needed a change," Hermann says with a shrug, sipping his third beer and staring off across the room. "I'd spent too much time in the European stores. My work felt... dull and staid. What better way to shake things up than a sojourn in America?"

"Oh, so you're not here long?" Newt says and looks down at the table, drawing meaningless designs in the condensation.

"Nothing's decided yet," Hermann says in a low tone and Newt glances up to see Hermann looking at him with a twinkle in his eye. "I could be persuaded to extend my visit."

Newt tilts his head to the side as he stares at Hermann contemplatively. "You want to get out of here?"

"Yes."

\---

Newt's standing in the living area of Hermann's apartment as Hermann locks the door behind him, looking around at the exposed red brick and mathematically tasteful art on the walls. He turns around to say something snarky but whatever he was going to say slips his mind as Hermann steps in close and kisses him.

It starts out slow and tentative, gradually getting a feel for each other but, as Hermann's hands slide over Newt's sides and Newt grips Hermann's back, becomes more insistent. Newt finds himself being walked backwards through the apartment, and he can only hope it's toward the bedroom because he'd like nothing more than to get Hermann naked and see what he's been hiding under all those layers of tweed.

He hears Hermann's cane hit something as he tosses it to the side, and then Hermann's fingers are working open his buttons and they're stuttering as he reveals Newt's painted skin.

"I'd surmised you'd had work done, but I never realised how much," Hermann says, steadying himself on Newt's shoulder and leaning in to look at the fauna and flora adorning his chest and arms. "This is excellent work."

"It's mostly Tendo, with a little Mako here and there," Newt says as he pulls Hermann back up so he can kiss him and work on Hermann's shirt. "You're completely bare?" Newt says looking up at Hermann in shock. "None at all?"

"If you go to a barber, do you get a haircut from the barber with the perfect haircut, or the terrible haircut?" Hermann says pushing Newt down onto the bed and draping himself over Newt to kiss wherever he can reach.

"I can't tell if you're confident or a snob," Newt says arching up to get closer to Hermann's mouth and sliding his hands down Hermann's back to get a firm hold on his ass.

"Both," Hermann says and the rest is lost to sensation.

\---

_Six Months Later_

Newt's setting out the seasonal bouquets when he feels an arm slide around his middle and lips pressing a kiss behind his ear. A low _Good Morning_ is murmured into his skin and Newt smiles and turns around in Hermann's arms to kiss him properly.

"Consultation or session today?" he asks as he draws back and wraps his arms around Hermann's waist. 

"Both," Hermann says following after Newt to nuzzle at his cheek. "It's going to be a late night, I'm afraid."

"We'll just have to have a late dinner, then," Newt says and laughs as Hermann presses his agreement into Newt's mouth. 

"I should get in; my first appointment's in half an hour," Hermann says pulling away regretfully.

"Hold up. I got something for you," Newt says and reaches over to one of the bouquets, pulling out a flower and a pair of secateurs from his back pocket. Cutting the stem, he reaches up and sets the red carnation in Hermann's lapel and smooths down the front of his blazer. 

Hermann looks down at the flower with a smirk and gives Newt another kiss.

"Get to work, snob," Newt says against Hermann's lips, smiling at the puff of air snorted against his cheek.

"Don't tell me what to do, flowerchild," Hermann says as he steps away and makes his way into Drift Ink.

Newt watches him go with a smile and heads back into the store, he's got a baby shower that wants twelve arrangements by the next day and he's only got two hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, [go look at the art now](http://parasitebeans.tumblr.com/post/99188774281/florals-and-fractals-a-piece-based-on-this). Go.


End file.
